


Death, my old friend.

by Handsofred



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek isn't actually in this just mentioned, Happy Stiles, Human AU, M/M, Old Age, POV Stiles, Stiles point of view, looking back on life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 19:52:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Handsofred/pseuds/Handsofred
Summary: *Just to point out, this is from Stiles' point of view, looking back on his life from an old age*He sits back then, eyes distant and gleaming wetly as he smiles. Inside his chest, his heart thuds painfully against his chest, thuds in the memory of the man he loved and had lost, thuds for the memories that they had shared together, for the life that they had lead.





	Death, my old friend.

**Author's Note:**

> This all came along when I saw the quote that is including at the beginning of the story, along with listening to different songs by the fray and others, this came through in my mind and I just had to write. To have something like this come at a time when I've been struggling with writers block, has been kind of a blessing.
> 
> I hope you guys don't hate me too much for this.

**_Death sits in the chair across from me and watches._ **   
**_Death sees but has no eyes._ **   
**_Death knows but has no mind._ **

**_We often sit together in the night._ **   
**_Death has one move left,_ **   
**_I have none._ **

**_\- Sylvia Plath._ **

 

He had seen, nearly everything which was there to see in life.

He had seen destruction, had seen life rebuild up and carry on from the horrors of warfare. He had seen life, the birth of a child, the true love that came with seeing their child for the first time. And he had seen death. The darkness which it brings with it, shrouding people in its grips. Hanging over their shoulders like a wet rag. He had seen the way it took happiness away, took the love people had and joy from the world. Countless horrors had cross his path in life, and even the rest of the world.

He had seen many come and many go.

All his life he had been close to death. Walking just fingertips touching from him, enough to brush but not to take. Many of his friends had been taken at a young age. He often wondered why his time hadn’t come.

He remembers a lot of his life, the ups and downs and the in-betweens. As he sits there, he uses his dying breaths to tell the story of his life, he tells about his mother. Say’s how he could still remember how she would smell, how he still had a bottle of her perfume in the wardrobe, even after all these years. He talks about his father and how proud he was of him, talks about all the cases that he had helped to solve even as a teenager.

He sits there, comfortable in his old armchair, telling about his life and the things he had seen. He talks about the people he had loved and even those he didn’t. But in the end, he always held some kind of fondness for them, a distasteful love, he would say with a chuckle.

For a moment, he lets the silence fill the space as he breathes harshly. A chest racked cough follows, stealing his breath away for a few moments before he presses the mask to his face and takes deep lungsful of the thing that helps him stay alive.

‘’It’s funny, how I got to live, when they died so young.’’ He says. ‘’watched so many leave this earth as I continued to walk it.’’ It’s with a sigh that he sits back and adjusts his blanket over his lap before going back to tell his story.

He remembers a moment which makes him smile, worn skin pulling and shrinking back as he nods his head slowly. He talks about him, tells them all about the way they were together at the start, more fighters before they turned to lovers over that summer.

Oh, that summer.

He may be an old man now, but that summer of his twentieth year is one that has always been stored away safely in his mind, a memory he often looks back on. He talks and talks, telling his story, telling his life.

‘’Derek Hale was a heck of a man’’ He will say before going on to tell the love hate relationship that they had shared at first. He would chuckle then and say. ‘’But I wore him down, I got past those walls of his.’’

He sits back then, eyes distant and gleaming wetly as he smiles. Inside his chest, his heart thuds painfully against his chest, thuds in the memory of the man he loved and had lost, thuds for the memories that they had shared together, for the life that they had lead.

For a moment, he just breathes out quietly, it’s hard to talk about him sometimes. It’s been a long time since he really thought about him properly, thought about the things they had done together once he had finished with college and they had moved away from all the horror that had been in their home town.  
He sits there and nods slowly. He tells of the time they spent under the stars, lost in the middle of a large corn field in the middle of nowhere. It was planned of course, on Derek’s part. That was the night they had gotten engaged. He looks down at his hand, fingers thicker than what they had been back then, but there, on his finger still sat the two bands that the other man had placed there. Never having been taking off apart from once.

As he talks of their life together, he turns to look towards the photographs sitting on the dresser and on the wall. Filled with many people and from different times, he takes them all in.

Even with all the horror in their lives, they were happy together and brought happiness to others. He remembers the moment their children were born, a daughter first and then a son and another daughter. He remembers the tears that he had cried the moment he had heard their first breaths, their cries filling a room and letting them know that they were there. In another instant, his eyes move across a few frames, takes in the faces of his children and grandchildren when they were young.

His family was large, he had seven grandchildren and five great grandchildren. The last to be born, only a few months before hand. His eyes watered for their love and their future as well as the grandparent that they would never met. Derek would’ve loved meeting them.

Wiping at his cheeks, he turned back to his company, a smile on his lips as he apologized for getting of course, after all, they were on a time limit.

It’s late at night and the building around him is quiet, his family is arriving the next day for a visit but he knows that he will not get to see them. It pains him deeply, but at the same time, he knows that it would be better this way, that he is not getting any younger and his heart isn’t going to keep beating strongly. He was promised that it wouldn’t hurt, promised that he would be reunited with those that he had lost in his life.

Reunited with his true love.

He doesn’t mind. Not really. He is old and his body is worn. Everything is already in order, his family doesn’t have to worry about doing anything, he made sure of that, he didn’t want them to have to deal with things once he was gone. A letter was sat on the table in front of him and between him and his guest, more of a novel actually than a letter. A history of his life, detailing every moment he could remember and everything he wanted to write down. In a way, part of it read almost like a love story, a prince going after his prince.

As he sits back and catches his breath, he runs his eyes over everything he had set out, documents that his family would need and the home would make sure they would collect. There’s a large box sat next to his chair, the lid opened from where he had looked through old photographs. He had included some in his makeshift book, paperclipping them in.

Atop it, sits another letting, a finale wish for it to be published, even if it was only for the family, he wanted his life to be in print and to be remembered. For his memory to live on in its pages.

From deep within the home, a clock chimes quietly. A reminder of his remaining time. Turning to his company, he just watches for a moment, silent questions passing between them before he asks a few questions. He listens to the answers and nods in acceptance, knowing that he had no problems with them.

Resting back, he smiles sadly as he goes back to telling his friend about Derek, about how they had met a few times since he had lost his true love so many years ago. Close calls that had his family worried, but each time he had been calm, after all, he had cheated so many times before. But each time then hadn’t been his time, he still had many years to go before it was.

And now it was.

As he sits there, sharing a small room, he isn’t afraid, in a way, he is excited for it to happen as well as feeling sad. He knows that he will miss seeing his family, to miss out on seeing his grandchildren and great grandchildren from growing up. But he’s comforted with the knowledge that they will be told about him and their other grandfather, that he will live on in their memories.

He talks quieter now, picking his words carefully before he says that he wants to rest now, that he is tired from telling his friend his story.

He knows, that in a few hours, another one of his friends will enter his room to bid him good morning, will walk over and pull back the thick curtains that keeps out most of the light before they will turn and look towards him. At first, they will probably just stand there and stare for a moment, unsure if what they are seeing is really the truth before they will approach and check.

It will be in that moment that they will realize.

That death had taken him peacefully in the night, like the old friend he was.


End file.
